The Big Red Chair
by caremkefo
Summary: When life in the spotlight became too much for Dean, a famous musician, he took a year out. Now he's back with his first album in over a year, and is met with a familiar face on a chat show appearance to promote it. (Inspired by Ed Sheeran on The Graham Norton Show.)


"There's no such thing as second chances, all I have is backward glances," Dean sang, holding onto the final note as the thrum of his guitar faded out.

As the audience burst into applause he dragged a hand across his forehead, wiping away the sheen of sweat that lined his brow. He handed his guitar over to a member of the crew before making his way back over the sofa. With several years of performing under his belt you'd think he'd be long past stage nerves, but he'd never lost them and after a year out of the limelight they were just as bad as ever. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he sat down again, nodding his thanks at the other guests as they praised him on his singing.

"That was _Second Chances_ , from Dean's newest album _Lazarus Rising_ , out on the 24th of January," Chuck shouted above the crowd. "Now we just have time to go over the the big red chair!" He turned away from his guests to the television screen on his right.

A moment later a nervous, dark-haired man appeared on the screen.

"Hello!" Chuck greeted him. "What's your name?"

"Cas," the man said, his voice deep and rich.

"Lovely to meet you, Cas. What do you do?"

"I work in an animal rescue shelter," he answered. "In Pontiac."

"Illinois? Have you always lived there?" Chuck asked, turning towards his guests again.

"No," Cas answered. "I grew up in Lawrence, Kansas."

"Awesome, dude!" Dean grinned.

"Looks like we've got a bit of a Lawrence reunion here," Chuck declared. "You know, you two look about the same age."

Dean leaned forward. "Did we know each other?" he asked Cas.

"Um, yes," the man replied.

There was laughter at the idea that Dean couldn't recognise an old friend.

"I'm not wearing my glasses!" he shouted out at the audience with a grin. "I can't see!" Standing up, he moved over towards Chuck and peering at the screen.

His eyes widened and his jaw fell slack as he took in the dark-haired, blue-eyed man before him that he'd just spent the last three minutes singing about. Butterflies swarmed to life in his stomach as his heart beat a furious rhythm against his rib cage.

"Cas _tiel_?!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

Cas looked so uncomfortable knowing he would be broadcast on national television. "Hello, Dean."

Dean swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "What the hell?!"

"Wait, you _do_ know him?" Chuck asked, watching their interaction with all the joy of a child on Christmas morning.

"He was my best friend growing up," Dean grinned. Outside he just looked happy to be seeing an old friend, but on the inside his heart was doing somersaults. Even after all these years, he still looked good. But even underneath his discomfort, Dean could see the familiar hurt in his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd last caused Cas that much emotional pain, but it still caused his gut to twist just the same. Maybe... Maybe there _was_ such a thing as second chances, after all. "We, uh, even dated for a while," he admitted, not breaking eye-contact with him.

Gasps and shocked exclamations erupted from the audience but Dean paid them no attention, instead focusing on Castiel's eyes. Surprised, relief, and anxiety flashed through them in that order.

"Wait, you dated him?"

"Can we just flip him, and get him out here?" Dean asked, ignoring Chuck's question and trying desperately to change the subject.

"Yes, we can flip him, and then you can be reunited backstage."

"No, get him out here," Dean repeated.

"Okay, we'll get him out here. Wait, did you have a story?" Chuck asked Cas.

"I, um..."

Even through the monitor Dean could see Cas's nerves threatening to take over, as his old friend's blue-eyed gaze jumping between Chuck and Dean. Taking matters into his own hands, he reached for the lever that would flip the chair and pulled it.

Cas's eyes widened and he yelped as he was thrown backwards.

Glancing over to the side of the stage, Dean motioned for his friend to be brought on. A moment later he stepped onto the stage, one hand stroking his crooked tie - a nervous habit he'd never broken since their school days, Dean noted with a grin. He strode over to him, a firm hand on his arm leading him over to the sofa. When they sat he slid his arm round, rubbing soothing circles across his lower back to ease his nerves.

Castiel cast a sideways glance at Dean, but he gradually relaxed under the curious gazes of the audience as Chuck thanked his guests.

"And finally, Dean Winchester and his friend Cas!"

Dean beamed and waved at the audience. Beside him, Cas half raised a hand then seemed to think better of it, curling his fingers into a loose fist and dropping his hand into his lap. Soon after the cameras stopped rolling, then members of the crew were removing microphones and wires and battery packs before everyone started making their way backstage.

Once they were out of earshot of of everyone Dean turned to Cas. "Dude, this is the weirdest thing!" he grinned.

At this, Cas looked awkward. "It's not, really. Someone sent an email - I think Gabriel had mentioned me to Kali, who's apparently a producer, and she thought it would make good television."

"You're shitting me!"

Cas shrugged. "It was just a set-up for ratings, or something. Gabriel wouldn't shut up about it, so I couldn't say no. I think he even mentioned your brother at one point."

Dean rolled his eyes. His brother had been nagging him about Cas ever since he'd heard the first draft of the song. It didn't surprise him at _all_ that he might have gotten in touch with Cas's older brother.

"It's not like I expect us to be friends again, or anything," Cas added, when Dean didn't immediately respond.

He looked so morose that Dean's stomach clenched. "Where..." He cleared his throat and licked his lips. "Where did it all go wrong?"

Castiel met his inquiring gaze. "I wouldn't be your dirty little secret," he reminded Dean. "I wasn't afraid of what people would say about us, but you felt that being gay would damage your career."

"I'm not _gay_ , Cas - I've had girlfriends. You know that!"

"But that's not how the world would see it and you know it. Bisexuality can be difficult for some people to understand."

"Yeah," Dean agreed quietly. "But you got it. I never had to worry that you thought I'd cheat on you with some girl because I couldn't make up my mind."

Cas smiled softly, and reached out for Dean. "Are you happy?" he asked hesitantly, unsure if he was allowed to.

"I... No, not really," Dean admitted. He swallowed thickly. "I got everything I've ever wanted, but lost the best thing I ever had."

"Privacy?" Cas guessed.

Dean clenched his jaw. " _You._ "

Cas's blue eyes widened, and his jaw hung open. "I... _Me?_ Oh..."

"It's not like I expect us to be boyfriends again, or anything," Dean said, offering Cas a half-grin as he threw his old friend's words back at him. "But, uh, there isn't... anyone."

Cas let out a shaky breath. "Dean..."

"No, Cas. You don't... You don't have to say anything. But what about we go get a drink, huh? For old times' sake?"

Cas flashed him a small smile. "I'd like that."

"Awesome. I just gotta sign a few autographs and shit first, okay? There'll be a crowd of people waiting at the stage door. I'll get someone to take you out a quiet way."

A sigh of relief slipped past Castiel's lips. "Okay."

"Alright, wait in here and I'll go grab someone."

The door was closed before Cas realised where he was. As he looked around, seeing the guitar propped up in the corner, the leather jacket draped across a chair, the photo of a small boy with a blonde woman placed beside the make-up mirror.

"Dean," he breathed, touching the photo lightly.

The door opened suddenly and he jumped, leaping back from the photo.

"Hey, this is Alfie. He'll take you out." Dean glanced at the photo, and a sad smile ghosted across his lips. "I take her everywhere I go," he explained softly, moving across the room. Pressing two fingers to his lips, and then to the photograph, he smiled. "Hey, Mom."

"I didn't mean to intrude," Castiel apologised.

Surprised, Dean shook his head. "Dude, no. You're not... Hell, you were always family growing up."

Castiel walked past him to the door. "How long do you think you'll be?" he asked, turning back.

"No more than twenty minutes," Dean told him. "Promise."

. * * * .

Almost forty-five minutes later, Dean found Cas at the back of the studio.

"Sorry, there was a crowd."

"You never did like leaving people to miss out," Cas remembered fondly.

"Come on," Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I've got a driver 'round here somewhere."

"Over there," Cas said, pointing. "Alfie said I could have waited for you in the car, but I wanted some air."

They walked over the parking lot to the car, Dean's hand finding it's way to Cas's back again. When Cas looked at him curiously, Dean let his hand fall away. "Sorry. Old habits."

"It's okay," Cas smiled.

Dean grinned. "I've got it," he told the driver who'd gotten out to open the door for them. "After you."

Cas smiled at him as he slid into the car, shifting over to let Dean in.

"Can you take us to The Roadhouse?" Dean asked the driver.

As he moved to buckle his seatbelt, the sleeve of his jacket hitched up.

"Hey," Cas noticed, reaching for Dean's hand. "You're still wearing it."

Dean glanced down at the bracelet Cas had given him a long time ago, when they'd been young and in love and convinced they'd be together forever. "Oh, yeah," he huffed in embarrassment. "I've never taken it off." Meeting Cas's eyes, he added, "Best thing I ever had, remember?"

Cas smiled at him, full and wide, as he raised the sleeve of his jacket and rolled the cuff of his shirt back to reveal the matching bracelet he'd bought himself at the same time.

Dean reached over and trailed his fingers across the twisted leather.

"I never stopped loving you," Cas revealed, his breath hitching as he dared to be the one who took the first step.

Dean looked at him with wonder, drinking in how different Cas looked now; how much he'd aged as they'd wasted time. The glimmer of hope in Castiel's eyes faded the longer he stared, but then Dean curled a hand around his nape and drew him into a kiss.

Fabric was tugged and buttons undone as they fumbled for skin, soft and warm beneath their fingers.

"Let's forget the bar," Dean breathed into Castiel's mouth. "We can order drinks up to my room."

Castiel's expression turned guarded. "Dean..."

"I want to make this work this time, Cas," Dean told him wholeheartedly. "Hell, I just came out on national television. It'll be on YouTube after that, and then the whole world'll know." He took a breath. "Tonight wouldn't just a one-time thing for me, Cas. I want more. I want _you_."

Castiel answered him with a kiss, Dean pulling away long enough let the driver know of their change of plans before he turned back to the man who'd given him a second chance.


End file.
